Barren
by Dalara
Summary: Obi-Wan reflects on the downfall of the Order.


Title: Barren

Author: Jedi-Nifet

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, save the idea.

Big, big thanks to CYNICAL21 for helping me with this one. 

Comments will be gladly accepted.

Tatooine - barren world - as barren as his soul now. A perfect match. The same desolation both within his heart and without. No life. Nothing. An angry wind drove the ashes of what might have been here before from one empty place to another - equally empty. And, in the end, it all became sand. As did the Order. It had once been solid and stable as bedrock; and now it was no more than a shifting dune of sand. The winds of time, cold and merciless, had ground it into crystalline grains - fine and formless.

The Jedi were scattered now - in the path of that corrosive wind - all over the galaxy. One by one they had disappeared into its vastness. The ever-hungry Republic had consumed its servants, with no thought of their needs or their existence. And now there was no more Republic. And no more Jedi. He was one of the last. They were too few now to change anything, no longer being keepers of peace and justice. In fact they were no longer keepers of anything, not even their own fire. Their fire had been extinguished, slowly at first, then with ever greater speed; and now there were only a few small pieces of coal among ashes. 

He remembered his master's pyre. The seemingly strong body had been consumed by fire until nothing was left save for dull gray powder. But that body had been dead. Had the body of the Jedi Order been dead as well? Was this fire just a final cleansing? Had they deserved it? Had they become blind, too arrogant, ignorant? Had it been right to free the galaxy of them? 

But what about the children? How could they have deserved a death so terrible? He remembered the ruins of the Temple - they would be burned into his mind forever. The five spires that had once risen so proudly above all Coruscant's buildings lay now in debris, with only burning remnants of light and spacious halls. Here and there the darkness of night was dispelled by flames still burning. 

He had run there, almost blind from the combination of black smoke and tears - tears brought on not only by the smoke, eating away at his eyes, but tears of despair, hopelessness. The smell of blood and burning flesh attacked his nostrils; not only was it not muffled by smoke, it seemed to be emphasized by it. He saw many Jedi, lying in awkward, unnatural poses: limbs spread, sometimes missing altogether. Their dead bodies seemed to taunt him - the only one of them left alive. He searched the Force frantically - surely - somewhere - there was someone - anyone - still living. But this was the realm of death. He went from room to room, with no real hope or purpose; he simply found that he couldn't walk away. It was a nightmare - and all he wanted was to wake up. Only there would be no waking up from this horror. 

The sight in one of the rooms made him freeze, icy fingers racing up his spine despite the heat from the flames. This had been a class room. And it had been filled with children - children whose tiny bodies seemed to cry out to him. Laying scattered around the room - burned, covered with blood, clothes torn. Did they deserve it? He had knelt among them, searching frantically for any sign of life. And finding none. The light of life was gone from this place. He choked from poisonous smoke and darkness: darkness of night and darkness in the Force. He checked each child thoroughly, lest he miss one that might have been spared. He knew some of them, could recall their smiles and clear contagious laughter chiming in the gardens. Now they were silent. 

The last child - a tiny girl, not older than seven - half leaned against the black wall. Her glassy eyes were open and stared dully into space, unseeing. He remembered her, had seen her once in the gardens. She had come to him when he was meditating and stretched out to him, with a candy clamped in her fragile little hand. She had smiled then, sharing her candy with him. It had been ages ago, or maybe just days. Time was incoherent now, everything confused. There was mask of terror on her face now as she clutched her doll desperately, as though this toy was her last chance for survival. 

And something within him cracked - and died. Everything became lucid for a moment and he realized the utter horror of all that happened. He stood there for some time - time had no relevance - in a daze. Then the dark cover of death lowered on him, muting sounds and colours. The world was painted in black and red. It suddenly swirled around him, spinning with such a speed that he couldn't stand it, and he sank to the floor. The next hours came to him now in a blur. He walked the Temple ruins again, this time with no direction, not knowing where he was going or why he was there at all. His legs brought him to the exit. 

He walked absent-mindedly away, not caring where, unable to even form a single coherent thought. Through the haze he recalled Bant meeting him, offering him shelter and food. Her silver eyes were pools of sorrow and grief... and regret. He came to her apartment and was startled by the image of an old man that met him on the threshold: clothes torn and burned, flesh battered and scarred, face covered with sinister spots of black and red. Only when Bant came to stand beside him did he realize that it was simply a mirror. He could hardly remember that night: crying and shouting in denial, Bant comforting him. He didn't remember when he fell asleep, only when he woke up next morning. Bant wasn't there, but she has left him breakfast in a heater. 

The next days were tainted by the memory of burned Temple. Will there be another day not tainted with it? He did many things in those days but the most important one was coming to Padme and taking her children. It pained him to do so but he thought that taken away and separated children are better than dead. He offered as much consolation to Padme as he could muster. She has always been a strong woman but she broke when they were left alone for a while. He murmured reassurances to her, not believing them himself. Finally she has pulled herself together again. And then he left, taking away her children...

A small whimper brought him out of his reverie. He looked down at the bundle in his hands. Padme's son, Anakin's son, the child that might change everything. Sleepy blue eyes stared up at him as if sensing his sorrow and asking why he was so sad. Forcing a small and strained smile he looked back at the tiny child - a part of Anakin, a part of past meant to bring future. He then brushed the child's hair adding a sleep Force-suggestion to the move. Blue eyes closed. Tucking the bundle more conveniently into his cloak he swept the unwelcoming landscape of a desert once again with his eyes - the place that will be his new home - and started towards buildings of a farm he knew was far in the distance. 


End file.
